A Turn of Events
by peanut0565
Summary: AU from 2x07 Out of Time.  What if Nikki couldn't break from the nightmare?  And what does that mean for Nathan?  Nothing good, I can assure you.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: **__As usual Don't own anything you can recognize... AU from 2x07 "Out of Time"...just exploring the possibilities...the what-ifs... XD Enjoy and please Review XD_

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"Stay back Nathan..." Bob warned him.

"I got it." He glanced back then advanced towards her.

"Don't do it, Nikki, this isn't you..." She grabbed his shirt collar and held him at arms' length. "This isn't you.." He said once more, staring directly into her eyes. Silently pleading with her to stop. Her eyes were filled with anger, despair, and pain.

He was about to continue when Nikki continued, slamming the syringe into Nathans' chest, just left of his shoulder blade, causing him to gasp with shock and a small twinge of pain. Within the split second she threw him aside like a rag dall, his body colliding and doubling over a chair, which in turn flipped over on him, pinning him down. Having no hope of getting up without help. He hissed in pain as he was flipped onto his chest and the chair brought down more weight on him, making the needle of the syringe push into his flesh fully, as well as the entire vial of the virus be injected into his system.

Nathan watched weakly as Nikki stared at Bob for a moment with the same hatred as she glared at Nathan with, but it seemed to fade quickly. The nightmare was expelled, either by her own will, or something else.

Time had slown then as she turned around to him, crumbling to her knees, her facial expression was a horrified one; at what she had done. He stared at her for a moment longer then, let his head drop and eyes close.

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Next time he was aware of anything from the real world he was on a gurney, flat on his back. He gasped as he opened his eyes, taking in a breathe of sterile air. He glanced around, it resembled much like a low-class hospital, not nearly as well off as the ones he had been in before.

With a quick survey of things he found that their were two people in the room; Nikki and Mohinder. The woman was sitting in a chair in the furtherest corner, her knees against her chest, and her arms around her legs. She was looking out the window into the hall, it had been clearly obvious that she had been crying. Nathan than looked towards Mohinder, who had his back facing him, typing madly on a laptop.

The silence persisted until Mohinder turned around, a clean syringe in hand, filled with a clear liquid. He seemed rather startled when he found Nathan staring at him, his eyes asking questions his voice didn't have the bravery too. After a moment of staring, Nathan finally allowed himself to speak.

"How bad?" He asked, resorting to short responses. He knew the syringe that Nikki stuck him with was the virus. He didn't know all the details of the virus yet, but had sensed it most likely fatal for anyone to come in contact with.

Nikki was standing at the other side of the bed at him, looking like she was about to cry again. Staring at Mohinder, hoping against all odds, that Nathan would not be another victim of her power.

"My bloods' not a cure for this anymore..." Mohinder answered quietly, slowly, with a twinge of saddness in his voice. Nathan stared at him in almost disbelief.

"I'm dying?" He asked, but it was more of a statement.

"Yes." Mohinder answered after hesitation, glancing down at the syringe he had been holding.

"What's that?" Nathan finally asked about what Mohinder was holding.

"It's morphine...for when the symptoms start showing...which should be any time now." Mohinder explained softly. Nathan just stared in disbelief at the Indian doctor.

He was really dying this time.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:**__ I have an Update few loyal readers XD_

_Lady-Celestia17: I to am interested to see where I go with this...lmao XD thnx for reading_

_ENJOY EVERYONE and please leave a review?_

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Mohinder left soon after delivering the fatal blow to Nathans' mentality. Nikki stayed around though, sitting in silence for a couple of minutes before breaking the ice.

"I'm sorry..." She whispered, putting her hand on his. He looked over to her and furrowed his eyebrows.

"For what?" He asked.

"For stabbing you...For killing you..." She whimpered, fresh tears running down a worn track. Nathan pulled from her grasp and placed a hand on her cheek, wiping away her tears with his thumb.

"You weren't in control. It's not your fault." He replied with a reassuring voice.

"But it was..." She continued on. "So many have died because of my power..." She said quietly. Nathan let his hand drop, she was as stubborn as he. This was going to be a long arguement, on who was to blame.

"I should have stabbed myself..." She pulled her own hand up to wipe away her tears.

"Then you'd be here instead of me..." Nathan started. "Don't meddle on what you should have done. Thats going to do no one any good." He finished.

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After a couple hours of talking with Nikki, she returned to her own room, leaving him to his thoughts. He tried to sleep, but found it was impossible. He ended up spending the night staring at the ceiling, off into space.

He was so lost in thought he didn't even notice his chest started to tighten on itself, his throat constricting as though he was having an asthma attack. By the time he noticed, no one was around to help, and he was too tired to go hunt for it. He sat there gasping for breathe, wheezing painfully, praying someone would come in that door way anytime now and noticed he needed help.

Twenty minutes passed with no vail. He arched his neck back straight, and gasped for the seemingly vanishing oxygen in the room.

Finally Nikki came through the door. He heard her voice shouting into the hall for help. Tears rolled down the side of his face in agony and relief at the same time. Nathan felt the soft touch of her hand on his hand, causing him to arch his head towards her, still wheezing painfully.

She placed her remaining hand on his cheek to keep his focus on her. "Just try and take deep breaths.." She offered her advice. He tried, but it only caused more pain.

"What's wrong?" He heard Mohinder from the door. In an instant he saw the young geneticist come into view, his face filled with concern and empathy.

Within the next second he felt a prick in his arm, and following that it was like the pressure was lifted from his chest. The pain leveled off and declined, and it was much easier to breath. Though the whole thing left him winded and even more exhausted then before.

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It was mid-morning before Nathan saw Matt stopped in with a wheelchair. Nathan stared at him in an 'you gotta be kidding me' look.

"It's the only way Bob would let me escort you." He apologized wheeling the chair up to his bed. On closer expection there was an oxygen tank latched onto the back. Nathan snorted in humility.

"I can breath fine on my own." He huffed. He was better then before, but not breathing normally yet, a half wheeze, half breath sort of, but he didn't complain about it hurting. Probably because Mohinder shot him up with a small dosage of morphine.

Matt went to help him from the bed, but Nathan pushed his hand away, wanting to maintain some dignity, whatever he had left. He slide smoothly into the chair when Matt slipped the loop of tube around Nathans' head to put in his nose.

Nikki returned as they were leaving, a questioning look on her face. "Where are you two going?" She asked.

"We're going to see my mother...To get the truth." Nathan answered, Matt nodded in agreement.

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Matt wheeled Nathan down the hallway of the police station, stopping just short of entering the holding room where Angela Petrelli was. Nathan practically demanded that he pulled himself into the room, after Matt of course. And the detective respected his wishes, entering first.

"How long are you going to keep doing this to me, Detective?" He heard his mother ask in a half irritated and half amused voice. She obviously didn't see her son behind Matt.

"This isn't for me this time." Matt said moving further into the room, allowing Nathan to pull himself in. Working a wheelchair with his arms was something he had never done before, but appeared efficient enough. He though had a new admiration for Heidi, who had to endure a wheel chair for 6 months, and did it like a professional.

"Nathan..." Angela for once showed a clear expression, a horrified one. Her hand went to cover her mouth, as she gasped at the sight of him. He was half hunched over in the chair, looking as though pushing him forward was exerting all his effort into it. His eyes were bloodshot, and his skin tone was a notch down from what it was the day before. He was still wearing the same clothing from the day before, which was crinkled, because he slept in them. His hair was loosely pulled back, but still looked relatively disessembled.

"What happened to you?" She asked. He could see she wanted to move from her chair, but her ankles were cuffed to the legs of the chair, keeping her sitting. He didn't answer at first, pulling himself to the table and putting the break on the chair. He was panting, though he was trying to act normal. Mentally he admited to himself that the oxygen tank was useful.

"I'm sick, Ma." He answered breathelessly. Her eyes furrowed in confusion. "I got injected with that virus you and the eleven others tried to pawn off as a cure, but it went deadly wrong...didn't it?" He revealed he knew more then she thought he did.

"We locked it up...how?" She asked, just watching him closely. He eyed her up, if looks could kill, she would have dropped dead.

"The orgnization...you and dad belonged too... why didn't you destroy it? The virus doesn't have a cure...why keep it around, its only a danger to everyone." He gasped for air, not having the strength to continue with it at the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

He put his elbows on the gray plastic table top and leaned forward, setting his chin on the palms of his hands. He eyed his mother up as she adverted her glaze to her own hands, fidgeting for a second.

"No more lies..." He growled. His anger with her only intensified after the explosion occured four months prior. Nathan had grown tired of her deceptive personality, and now was his chance to get her to come clean. He knew she wouldn't deny his dying wishes. She couldn't.

She let out a huff and started at the beginning. She told of before she and his father -Arthur- were even married. How they stumbled upon Adam Monroe, another with an ability, not quite like theirs but an ability none the less. Arthur then brought Daniel Linderman into the picture, a young soldier he had commanded during his years over in Vietnam. Daniel too had an ability. The four of them banded together in search of others like themselves. And in the end there were a total of thirteen in the group.

The group then created a company, made for specials like themselves. Made for those with abilities and to help them understand their gift and control it. Also to find the ones with unstable powers, that either would use them for ill-intent or worse couldn't control them what so ever. Ironically,the company was created the same year Nathan was born, the same year Angela married Arthur.

During the company's search for other specials, they came upon an indian girl who was sick. She had an ability, and a virus that was blocking it. After some string pulling, they managed to get a vial of the virus from the hospital where the indian girl -Shanti- was located. Sadly the girl died shortly after, so they couldn't get much on the disease itself.

Over the following years they began to manipulate the virus and study it. It was five years into the research when Adam betrayed them all. He spoke of killing the population and having a fresh start. He nearly unleashed the deadliest strain of the Shanti virus.

After that the twelve original specials who found each other locked Adam up and threw away the key. He couldn't be trusted any more, they decided. The research on the virus also was shut down. The one who headed up the research with Adam couldn't take it anymore and left.

By the time Peter was born, several of the original twelve grew apart, branching off, eventually changing their minds about the true cause of the company. And since then it had been run by the Petrellis, Linderman, and Bob.

Finally Angela explained a possible cure for Nathan. She explained only three people could help him now; Claire, Peter, or Adam. Claire was in an unknown location. Peter was believed to be dead. And Adam wouldn't help anyways.

Nathan had remained quiet through the whole explanation, aside from the slight wheezing sound of the oxygen flowing in and out of his failing lungs. And aside from adjusting a little in the two-bit imitation of a wheelchair he remianed quiet.

"Thank you..." He said quietly a couple of moments after she finished her timeline. She gave a short nod, which was more of a jerk upwards with an inch and one downwards, watching him carefully.

Angela looked at him as though she were going to start sobbing any second now. Nathan had to glance away, he needed to stay steadfast with her. If he looked her in the eyes, all his anger would melt away, and he would become a momma's boy and forgive her.

"I'm ready to leave, Matt." Nathan announced to the cop behind him. The one that sat patiently through it, even though neither the other two paid no mind to him.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Authors' Note:**__ okay I forgot last time to thank the reviewers...sorry...got caught up in typing '_

_Anywho Thanks to: __**RBDFAN, Counter Spark, Winchester-Jackson-Petrelli, TroypayisLOVE,**__ and __**HeroesBonesSNPB.**_

_ENJOY and please keep reviewing XD!_

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Before returning to the company's headquarters in New York, Nathan managed to convince Matt into a pit stop at the Petrelli Mansion to collect a few minor things; a change of cloths, mainly, a few pictures, etc. It didn't take much for Nathan to convince the detective, who agreed by making a snide comment about Nathan smelling horrid.

Matt though was given the task of climbing the spiral staircase to fetch Nathan some clothing. Nathan, himself, slowly entered the living room. His arms burned as he rolled along the wooden floor. His chest ached with the sickness, making him feel as though he had the flu. Each inhale was painful and each exhale was seethingly agonizing. It took all his will power not to groan each time. The morphine obviously had worn off.

Nathan pushed himself past the furniture to the fire place. On its banister was a role of twelve or so framed pictures of him, Peter, his parents, Heidi, and his sons. He searched the photographs for that particular one that He couldn't go without.

It was one of him and Peter at his wedding night. Why he liked that photo so much? He wasn't quite sure, it probably had something to do with the two of them finally stopped fighting for once and enjoyed each others company; truely.

His arm reached for it as soon as he spotted it, beckoning it to come to him. But with everything else it was out of his reach. His arm that was fully extended slacken some in defeat. He would need to stand.

The question was, could he? He felt as though he was barely on the rim of conciousness as it was. Barely had the strength to roll ten feet to this spot. He sighed, letting out a painful groan, only because he knew he was alone at the moment. Matt was somewhere upstairs rustling through the dressers for clothing for Nathan.

He eyed up the photograph again. He wanted...no needed it. With that he was determined as ever to get what he wanted. His eyes locked on the target as he put his feet on the wooden ground shakely. He held his breath as his hands gripped the armrests so tightly that the skin on his knuckles were completely white. He hissed painfully as he exerted his dwindling energy into standing up.

He reached about half way before reaching out for the banister with one hand, faltering just slightly, before he latched onto the wooden banister and pulled himself into a standing position. Sure, his back was slightly hunched over, but it was good enough.

After a moment of catching his uncatchable breath, He let go of the wheelchair completely and reached for the photo. Somewhere in the back of his head he thanked the oxygen tank for having such a long cord. His hand shakingly pulled it towards him. The corners of his lips curling upwards just slightly as he got a closer look at the photograph.

A moment came and went when he heard some rustling around him. He jerked, dropping the photograph in the process. Not that he was that suprised, it was just he didn't have the strength to keep hold of it when startled like that.

There was nothing though. He looked around the room slowly, and saw no one there. His face twisted in confusion for a second, before relaxing. Thinking he just heard it in his head and casted it off nonchalantly.

He glanced down to the fallen photograph. The glass of the frame had been shattered but remained in the wooden frame just above the picture. Nathan sighed heavily, and went to bend down.

It was then that his stomach churned, and he felt the burning bile rise to the back of his throat. He gagged, and the dwindling energy he had left him. His knees buckled and he fell forward over the photograph. His hands instinctively went down beneath him to prevent actually falling face first into the wood tile.

It worked for a minute, but gravity defied him. The bile that was in his mouth was pulled by the gravity, and he could do nothing to stop it. His stomach contents emptied out of him just like that, spilling onto the floor. Some part of him was thankful there wasn't much there, and it didn't hit the photograph. He didn't want it damaged.

His arm strength gave in then, and he was just barely able to push off on to one side, his head just narrowly missing the pile of vomit he had just expelled on to the floor. He let out a whimper of pain, blinking for a moment, taking in the side view of his stomach contents. Something struck him as odd though, the over all content was a red liquid.

_Blood._


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note**__: another update...woot XD_

**Counter Spark:** _I haven't even gotten started with him yet...lol You should see what I did to Jack Bauer from 24...' I seriously think if you look up sadistic writer in the dictionary you'd find a picture of me... ' and for Nathan in this fic, his future will remain uncertain for now (meaning I ain't tellin til i write it! lol) I update everyday because my updates are always sorta short (I don't have the patience right now to write detailed, and extended as many folks do...meaning 1000+ words an update) XD_

_Thanks to __**HeroesBonesSNPB**__ and __**Winchester-Jackson-Petrelli**__ for reviewing_

_ENJOY and please keep reviewing?_

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_A pair of flannel pajama pants, shirt, and a fresh pair of boxers should be enough, right?_

Matt mused to himself as he went to make his way down the stairs when he heard something break, followed by a thud. On pure instinct he clambered down the stairs, taking two steps at a time with grace he could never find when actually concentrating on it. He took two running steps before sliding on the wooden floor into the door frame of the sitting room where he had left Nathan.

First he saw no sign of life. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern as he edged into the room. Soon the empty wheelchair came into view. His eyes widened as its occupant was missing.

"Nathan?" He called out to the room, edging closer to be meet with a scarring sight. As the ground before the couch revealed itself, so did the missing person. Nathan was on his side, half curled up, shaking. Next to him was a meager pile of vomit, and a shattered frame.

Instantly the cop came up behind him, pulling the eldest Petrelli onto his back gently. His face was ghostly white, and glimmering with a slim coat of sweat. His eyes were half open, glazed over. Matt noticed he could no longer hear the labored wheezing that was before.

His eyes widened as the tell tale signs of lack of oxygen were so visibly played out before him. Nathans' lips were slightly discolored, a pale purple, the lack of response and movement; he was completely limp on the wooden floor.

Matt immediatly recalled his rescue breathing lessons, and turned his head sideways and leant over Nathan's face. Matt waited for a moment, watching for the rise and fall of his chest, and to feel something on the side of his face.

_One second passed...then two, three, five, ten...Nothing._

"Fuck, Nathan..." He growled as he felt for a pulse then. He closed his eyes to concentrate on counting. It was weakening by the second. Matt recoiled to sitting straight up putting his hands into his pockets, feverishly searching for something the good geneticist gave him before they left on their little trip.

_I was able to get him to breath again before he went into full respiratory arrest. Next time he may not be so lucky. Here, if worse comes to worse, stick him in the arm and squeeze in all its contents. He should come around within seconds after._

The words flooded back to him as he finally fingered the syringe and pulled it out. He eyed it up before removing the cap that made it safe to carry around in his pocket. He lashed out with his free hand, gripping the closest arm to him. Without much concious though the syringe found its target, and with a remarkably steady hand, Matt administered the liquid into Nathans' body, and waited.

_One second passed...two, five, ten..._

Panic was rising as every second passed and nothing happened. The body looked more corpse like then ever. Matt was just about to check his pulse again, as he heard a sharp painful intake of breath. His eyes followed as Nathans' chest rose and fell, and continued in a shuddering like fashion. The cop himself, let out a sigh in relief.

After another minute passed by, and the adrenaline retreated, Matt was exhausted. He kept a watchful eye on Nathan, who was still rather unresponsive, only thing that had really changed, was that he was breathing now. Something wasn't right. His mind fell back to what Mohinder had told him about what should happened. He started breathing, but he wasn't fully coming around. He wasn't fully concious.

"Let's get you back." He said tiredly, positioning himself to pick the other man up. He was light, at least. Matt pulled him up by his armpits, so his back was now against the cops' chest. Matt noticed that in one hand was the photograph interlaced in his fingers, in a death grip.

_Must be important, to not even let go of it after not being all there._

After a couple minutes of struggling, Matt managed to get Nathan in the chair and sitting upright. He grabbed the cloths he had gotten for the man which were scattered a few feet away and set them on Nathans' lap. He then proceeded to place the oxygen tube back in its rightful place around Nathans' head and connecting to his nose. Finally he rested the limp hands over the cloths to keep them somewhat secure.

This was when he got a good look at the photograph that Nathan had taken. It was of him and his brother, Peter. Matt never thought brothers could have such a deep bond. But why would he, He was an only child after all.

With that and keeping a steady hand on Nathans' shoulder to keep him sitting upright, they made their way back to the car.


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